


Ceasefire

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Series: Ceasefire [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/M, PWP, Sequel, They skip the friend step
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-12 03:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20140219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: A follow up to Incontrovertible Truth. Shameless shower smut with the barest hint of plot mixed in.





	Ceasefire

He wasn’t sure what he’d expected from sleeping with Belle French, but banging his head against the marble tile wall of his shower after being told in no uncertain terms that it was a mistake was certainly the most likely, if unwanted, outcome.

He should have foreseen this of course. Belle French was young, beautiful and well liked, in short everything he wasn’t. She’d moved to town three years, two months, and six days ago and had turned his life on its head almost immediately.

Belle had stumbled into the middle of an ages old power struggle between himself and the mayor. Regina begrudged just how much of the town he owned so when it became apparent he was going to successfully bid on the old city hall location beneath the clock tower, she had snapped it up for an impromptu public works project; the Storybrooke Free Public Library. Gold hated being cheated out of what was rightfully his and became bound and determined to see the project fail. It wasn’t as though the huddled masses of Storybrooke had much use for a library in any case. There was already one at the high school for children to use and he couldn’t imagine Leroy Miner or David Nolan queuing up to check out the next great American novel.

And then Belle French had turned up.

For the past three years, two months and six days his head had been filled with little else but thoughts of Belle French, first of how to best get her to leave town so he could close the library and later because her blue eyes, hot temper, and impossibly long legs made it very hard to think of anything but seizing her about her slim waist and kissing her senseless every time she opened those perfect pink lips to berate him.

Gold pulled his head back, thumping it against the marble tiles once more, penance for his own stupidity.

Honestly what did he think would happen? That Belle French would wake up in his arms and be delighted? That she’d want to go to breakfast with him? Be his girlfriend? Move in? Not that he wanted any of those things, of course.

He wasn’t naïve. He knew everyone in town hated him, most with good reason. He knew Belle had better reason than most. But there’d always been something electric between them, some undercurrent of tension when they’d get in each other’s faces and snarl. Truthfully he’d given up all serious attempts to derail the library years ago. He only kept the ruse going because he enjoyed fighting with Belle French so damn much.

He thought Belle must have known the effect she had on him. He thought he might have a similar effect on her, that perhaps she kept the animosity going out of sheer enjoyment as well.

_She’d_ kissed _him _after all.

But sexual tension was all it was. Now it had broken and she’d never want to see him again. The one true joy in his life, riling up Belle French until she broke and directed her blazing hot fury at him, was gone.

At least he had one night to remember. One perfect night where she’d kissed him, where he’d gotten a taste of her. She was perfection, her skin supple and her lips sweet as cherries. He had so much fun verbally sparring with Belle, but who knew the untold delights they could partake in if they both just shut up for once.

He let out a groan at the feel of his cock hardening at the memory of last night, of Belle writhing beneath him, those long legs wrapped around his hips, the taste of her pleasure still on his tongue as he sank into her silky, tight cunt, so hot and so wet all for him.

He shut his eyes beneath the warm spray of the shower, taking himself in hand as he braced his other hand against the shower wall. There was nothing for it now. He’d certainly pleasured himself to the thought of Belle French before, but now he had reality to base his fantasies on. He squeezed himself, remembering the exact way Belle’s flesh had surrounded him, the feel of her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling his hair, the breathless little sounds she made against his ear. He could almost pretend she was here, now, feel the warmth of her body at his back.

He felt a hand snake around his midsection and Gold started, releasing himself as his eyes popped open. At the sight of a strange appendage splayed across his belly, he screamed, his bad leg skittering out from under him as he stumbled against the slick wall of the shower.

He turned to see a wide-eyed and very naked Belle French standing just outside the reach of the shower head.

“What the fuck!” he exclaimed, his legs giving out as he slid down the length of the wall, his rear end hitting the floor with a wet slap.

“Did I startle you?” she asked uselessly before shaking her head. “Of course I did. I’m sorry, I should have announced myself. Fuck, I’m bad at this!”

“Bad at what?” he demanded. “Murdering people in the shower?”

Belle rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t trying to murder you,” she said looking down at him, still splayed out on the shower floor. Her eyes darted down between his legs and she looked back at him with a knowing smirk.

“What were you doing?” she asked in a faux innocent voice. Gold crossed his legs as best he could, trying to hide his flagging erection from her view.

“None of your goddamned business!”

Belle just arched an eyebrow, hands braced on her hips, and looking far more confident naked than anyone had a right to. Not that she had anything at all to be ashamed about. Her body was perfect, a sharp contrast to his own. 

“Hmm,” she said with a little shrug, a bob of her shoulders that made her perfect little breasts bounce, drawing his eye downward. She smirked again.

“I thought you’d gone,” he growled out, his wounded pride mixing with his bruised heart and leaving him even surlier than usual.

“I changed my mind,” she said simply. “I decided I wanted to try out your shower. The one at my apartment is a cramped little thing. Definitely no space for two.”

Gold was still sitting on the shower floor, staring up dumbfounded as Belle stepped under the shower head, lifting her face to the spray. The water ran down her body in rivulets, down to the points of her breasts and over the swell of her hips. She pushed her dark hair back from her face, her eyes closed as she enjoyed the warm water.

“What are you doing?” he rasped out, painfully aware of how his cock was swelling again at the little show Belle was putting on. He was too old for this.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, pulling the wet tendrils of her hair over the other.

“I told you, I’m taking a shower.”

“Like hell,” he said grabbing hold of the marble bench inset in the wall, a concession to his bad leg that he wished she wasn’t privy to. He hated to show weakness. He hauled himself back up to standing, his own naked body far too close to Belle French’s in the confined space of the shower. “I thought you said last night was a colossal mistake. Something to be ashamed of.”

Her words had stung, no matter that he should have expected them. They hit him in a soft, tender place he’d thought he’d lost long ago. A place in his heart that could all too easily be filled up by Belle French if he wasn’t careful. Her words had been a reminder to keep that part of himself, that weakness, closed off. It would only lead to pain.

And yet here Belle was. Gold didn’t like to be surprised, on most occasions. He never asked a question without first knowing the answer. But Belle was one answer he couldn’t quite puzzle out. What would she do next?

“Perhaps that was an overstatement,” Belle said, turning to face him. “But what would you call it? I mean it’s not every day you wake up in bed with your worst enemy.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. “Worst enemy?” he repeated, reaching out to wrap one wet strand of her dark hair around his finger and tug lightly at it. “Isn’t that a little extreme?”

He knew Belle disliked him, but he thought there was a fondness behind it. Friendly antagonism. A flirtatious rivalry. She’d apparently been much more serious about their enmity than he.

“You hate me,” she said flatly, as if it was as easy as that. “You’ve made no secret of that.”

He scoffed. “I’m not in a habit of sleeping with people I hate,” he said. “If I did I’d be fucking the whole town.”

Belle shook her head, droplets of water spattering against his chest at the motion.

“Who’s your worst enemy then?”

“Regina Mills,” he said without pause.

Belle just blinked at him.

“Then what am I?”

He huffed a laugh.

“Well, right now you’re a naked woman in my shower.”

Belle bit her lip, a blush rising in her cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest as if suddenly struck with her own brazenness. “I…maybe this was a mistake.”

“Oh don’t you dare leave now,” he said, his voice a purr. She’d come back. She’d had the chance to leave, in the sober light of day, and she’d come back. Stripped naked and hopped in the shower just as assuredly as she’d pounced on him last night. That meant something. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but he wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Belle French was the most beautiful and infuriating woman he’d ever met and for better or worse, he wanted her.

“Or what, Mr. Gold,” she asked, lifting her chin to meet his eye, her momentary shyness falling away. She always liked a challenge from him. It brought the flush to her cheeks, her breath quickening, her eyes dilating. It was the thrill of combat she longed for, a battle of wills where neither of them were willing to yield. He remembered the scent of her arousal on his fingers, her taste on his tongue, the feel of her clenching around him. He stepped forward until his chest was pressed against hers, the rosy buds of her nipples pressed against his ribcage and Belle’s breath hitched in her throat.

He leaned down, his mouth against the shell of her ear and felt her shiver against him, despite the warmth of the water bathing their bodies.

“I think you know exactly what I’m capable of,” he said, letting the double entendre hang in the air as he pulled back just enough to meet her eye.

Belle blinked slowly, water clinging to her dark lashes before dripping over the curve of her cheek. Her lips were parted, her breath coming quickly and he knew she wasn’t leaving until they were both satisfied.

He reached out to wipe the rivulets of water from her cheek but before he could, Belle surged forward, gripping on to his shoulders as she kissed him soundly. Gold wrapped his arms around her waist, as much for balance as for pleasure. Belle never did anything by halves it seemed. She gave her whole heart to everything whether it was championing literacy in a small town, standing up to the one man everyone feared, or kissing that same man once her mind was made up. She was a force of nature and he was certain he could never stand in the eye of her storm and come out the other side unscathed. He was hers and he had been for three years, two months and six days. It had only taken him that long to accept the inevitability. It was almost a shame he’d never tell her.

Belle pulled back a moment later, her chest heaving against his own.

“I came back because you’re annoyingly good in bed,” she said, repeating her assessment to Miss Lucas.

“I want you to fuck me,” she continued, her coarse words sending heat rushing down his spine to settle in his balls. “I don’t know what else I want, but for now I want you to fuck me.”

He smirked, adopting the cocky self-assuredness he usually displayed. No need to let Belle know just what a bundle of neuroses he truly was just yet.

“That can be arranged,” he said.

Belle nodded, a nervous little smile crossing her face and he bent down to kiss her again, a gentle press of his lips against hers, a tease more than anything else. Belle pushed up on her toes, trying to deepen the kiss, but he pulled back and she let out a frustrated hiss.

“Patience, Miss French,” he said, nipping at her full lower lip. “There’ll be time for that.”

He cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her wet hair as he pressed his lips against hers again softly before tipping her head to the side and kissing down the pale length of her throat. He’d left a love bite there last night and he lapped the water from her skin, his tongue tracing the little mark. Belle gasped and he continued his exploration down over her collarbone, worrying the skin with his teeth. Belle might not have known what she wanted beyond this, but he did. He wanted her, to mark her as his own for the whole town to see. 

His hands slid down over her hips, straying to her lush backside and pulling her hips against his. Belle gasped at the feel of his erection grinding against her and he grinned against her skin.

“Does that feel like hatred?” he asked and Belle huffed out a laugh.

“I don’t know,” she countered. “Maybe animosity turns you on.”

“You turn me on,” he growled. “Always have. I’m just shit at flirting.”

That surprised a laugh out of Belle, a real, genuine one the likes of which he’d never been the cause of before last night. It made something in his chest warm, a gentle glow that threatened to fill him up, shooting out of his fingertips and the ends of his hair. He wanted to make her laugh more often. It was so much more fun than making her yell at him. For now he’d settle for making her scream. 

“You have a bench in your shower,” she pointed out. “That’s useful.”

A slow smile crossed his face as he backed up to it sitting down and pulling Belle over him. She straddled his thighs, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him again, taking control. This time, he let her.

Her mouth was hot on his, her lips pushing his apart roughly as her tongue dipped into his mouth, tangling with his own. He let out a groan at the taste of her. It had been mere hours since he’d last had her and he was already desperate for more. He was totally fucked.

The air in the shower stall was humid, the spray of the shower leaving their bodies slick as the steam rose around them fogging the glass, shutting out the world beyond. Gold wished they could stay here forever, just the two of them with no worries about the library or the town or his petty squabble with the mayor. It made him want to be someone else entirely, someone who Belle would want beyond this stolen moment. He hadn’t allowed himself to think like that in ages, since he was little more than a lad. It scared him and thrilled him in equal measure.

Belle's hands explored the planes of his chest, tracing down across his belly and wrapping around him as she kissed him. They were so close, their skin slipping against each other and it would be easy, so easy, to slip inside her already. He wanted this to last longer than that though. Who knew if he'd get the chance again. Belle seemed in more of a hurry, however. 

She bore down, grinding her hips against his, his rigid cock slipping through her velvety folds. He groaned loudly, his head falling back against the marble tile and Belle smirked, repeating the motion until he seized on to her hips stilling her.

He narrowed his eyes at her, determined not to let her win so quickly.

He brought his hands up to her breasts, plucking at her nipples. The smirk on her lips faded, her mouth falling into an oval as he traced the sensitive undersides of her breasts before leaning forward to trail his tongue over one perfect pink peak. He looked up at her as he suckled her, her blue eyes dark as she held his gaze. He let her go with a wet pop and she huffed out a laugh.

Her hand skimmed over his chest, short nails raking over his nipple and across the sparse hair on his belly before reaching down between his legs and taking him in hand. She gave him a pump, her hand already wet from the shower and slippery against him. He thrust into her hand and she smiled at his reaction.

“Y’know, Ruby told me I should give you a handjob,” she said. “Thought it might get you off my case.”

He arched an eyebrow at her, trying to remain aloof despite her small hand working him into submission.

“It’d take at least a blowjob for me to concede defeat.”

Belle’s brows rose, latching on to the idea and he knew instantly he’d made a mistake.

“If I ever give you a blowjob,” she said, stretching out the word with relish, “then you have to get a library card in return.”

Her hand was working him faster now, taking him to the edge. Precum beaded at the tip of him, dripping down the underside of his cock. This was not how he’d allow this encounter to end, spilling himself across Belle’s hand and stomach as she manhandled him in his own shower. He reached down, stilling her hand with his own.

“Deal,” he said through gritted teeth.

Belle released him with a triumphant smile, adjusting her knees where they were braced against the bench on either side of his hips. The motion had her wet, silky heat butting against his cock again and he grabbed on to her hips, holding her to him as he kissed her again. Belle was smiling against his lips and he thought it might be the best moment of his whole miserable damn life.

His hand trailed downward, between her legs and the thatch of curls there, a perfect v above her entrance. He wondered if she waxed or, if like every other part of Belle French, she was just naturally that perfect.

Belle shivered as he traced her entrance with his fingers, parting the petals of her sex and finding her drenched with need. He slipped one finger up inside her and Belle let out a ragged breath, her hands moving up his shoulders and burying themselves in his hair.

“Yeah,” she stuttered out. “More!”

He slid a second finger in next to the first, using his palm to stimulate her clit. Belle leaned back, cupping her own breasts as she rode his hand and his mouth went dry at the sight. She was so beautiful, her hips gyrating against him as she chased her orgasm. He curled his fingers, pressing up against her inner walls and she shuddered, quickening her pace before falling forward to brace her hands against the wall over his shoulders and putting her breasts right in his eye line. He leaned forward, taking one rosy nipple between his lips and sucking.

“God, yes!” Belle cried before he released her with a pop, using his mouth on her other breast. He added a third finger and Belle tensed above him, going up on her knees, the muscles of her thighs taut, and he knew she was about to break.

He pulled his fingers from her and Belle let out a frustrated groan, glaring down at him before he quickly replaced them with his cock, pulling her down on to him with a cry of relief as he pushed up deep inside her.

Belle’s forehead pressed against his, her nails digging in to his shoulders as she shuddered around him, her thighs clamping around his hips. His hands came up to cup her breasts, his thumbs playing over the hard buds of her nipples as he squeezed her gently. Belle threw her head back as she rode him, only a few jerks of her hips before she was coming apart, a scream ripped from her throat somewhere between agony and ecstasy.

“Fuck!” she cried out, her inner muscles clenching around his cock as he continued to thrust up into her shallowly, once, twice, before he was spilling himself inside her with a groan, white hot heat racing up his spine and blinding him with its intensity, leaving him dazed. His head fell back against the hard, tile wall with a thud, his breath labored.

Belle melted bonelessly against him, her head resting on his shoulder as their breathing returned to normal. He rubbed a hand idly against her back, down the line of her spine and up again. The spray of water had gone from hot to lukewarm, beads of water cutting abstract paths through the steam on the glass door. If they stayed in here much longer the water would be downright cold, but he couldn't move if he tried. Luckily he could think of many ways they could warm each other up, if Belle was down for it.

And he had no idea if she would be. They’d thoroughly fucked each other twice now but other than a halfway civil conversation about classic literature the night before, they’d never spoken to each other without at least one of them losing their temper. It wasn’t exactly the basis for much of anything. Not that he was thinking of the future in any real way. That would be ridiculous.

“Not to put too fine a point on it,” he began, running his hand down Belle’s arm, watching the little beads of water smear against her flushed skin beneath his fingers. “But what exactly is happening here?”

Belle lifted her head from his shoulder, her eyes bright and a pleasant glow about her cheeks. He liked Belle post orgasm. She seemed like someone that hadn’t had nearly the amount of orgasms in her life that she deserved and he was keen to rectify that.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice soft. “But we definitely can’t keep going on like we have been. Something has to change.”

“I think that’s inevitable at this point,” he said, his hands trailing down to span her waist, his thumbs tracing swirling patterns on her hipbones. “I’d certainly rather do this than fight over funds for library repairs.”

Belle sighed, nodding to herself as if coming to a decision about something.

“You’re going to stop your war on my library,” she said forcefully. “Stop trying to run me out of town. I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here.”

She punctuated her words with a jab of her finger against his chest and Gold raised an eyebrow at her.

“Right here in this shower?” he asked. “I’ll have to start charging you rent, I’m afraid. No free handouts, no matter how I appreciate your talents.”

Belle rolled her head back with a frustrated groan.

“Can't you ever just shut up?” she pushed off him, her hands braced against his shoulders. His flaccid cock slid from within her and the lack of her warmth on top of him suddenly had him very aware of how cold the shower had become.

He watched somewhat numbly as Belle clamored out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels hanging on the wall rack next to it. He'd said the wrong thing, once again, and she was leaving, once again. 

"You wouldn't want that," he accused, standing up and turning off the tap, the shower spray finally cutting off and dripping a few last chilly droplets on his shoulders. "You like the challenge too much. Admit it." 

He watched as Belle wound one fluffy towel about herself, snatching up another for her hair, seemingly ignoring him. It only served to irritate him further

"Why did you come back?" he demanded, his voice loud and echoing in the spacious bathroom. 

Belle turned to face him, her eyes wide as she toweled her hair dry. She finished with the towel, letting it fall to the floor beside her bare feet as she gazed up at him, her expression serious. 

"Because I thought there might be something more between us than anger and attraction," she said truthfully. "There was something in your eyes this morning, something sad. It...hurt that I might have been the cause of it." 

He nodded slowly, almost ashamed at how thoroughly Belle had seen through him. 

"You didn't cause it," he admitted. He'd had a lifetime of hurt, of regrets, of pain and suffering. Belle had been a welcome distraction from the drudge, a beautiful bright spot that he kept with him in any way he could. He'd take her anger and her rage because he knew he'd never have her good opinion, her friendship, her love. "You alleviate it." 

Belle's breath caught in her chest, her blue eyes soft as she reached up to stroke her hand against his stubbled cheek. It was the most tender touch he'd had in decades and it made him want to cry. He caught her hand in his own, turning his face to kiss her palm reverently. When he looked back to Belle, there were tears in her eyes. 

"Okay," she said, dropping her palm from his cheek but keeping hold of his hand. "Okay." 

He nodded again, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to. He didn't want Belle to pity him, but he did want her. Perhaps she’d come back from time to time, share his bed when it suited her. He could accept that. She’d said she was embarrassed by what had happened between them. She certainly wouldn’t want anything between them going public. But if she saw his weakness and gave him any shred of her time it would be more than anyone else had ever done. 

Belle smiled up at him, handing him yet another towel and he wrapped it around his waist, following her back in to his bedroom.

* * *

The following Monday morning, something truly unprecedented happened. Mr. Gold woke up, dressed in his usual three-piece suit, and walked in to town. However, instead of opening his shop as he usually did at 8:00 on a Monday morning, he crossed the street to the Storybrooke Free Public Library and opened a library card instead. He checked out two books on antique restoration that had been put aside for him and, rumor has it, he even smiled at the librarian.


End file.
